


Softened

by consumptive_sphinx



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: All Human AU, Brand associations, M/M, Street Magic AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3089240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consumptive_sphinx/pseuds/consumptive_sphinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We've softened the sun just as much as we've softened angels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Softened

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vivian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivian/gifts).



The day starts off badly, with a pop quiz in Geometry that I didn't study for. I'm not even carrying any luck charms, and I'm pretty sure I bombed. 

But the quiz is over soon, and second period Biology is where things get interesting. 

See, I might not be anything special with math (though I can usually scrape through with ladybugs drawn on my arm, giving people talismans in exchange for help on homework, and being friends with Lindir), but I've always been good at science. So I'm in a science class that's chock-full of seniors, even though I'm still a sophomore. 

And today, we're changing seats. 

Normally I sit in the very back corner. Wrong side to be near the window, but far enough away that Aiwendil (and yes, he is one of those cool teachers who lets students use his first name) won't notice me enough to call on me. Just because I can keep up with seniors doesn't mean I want them looking at me. 

But Aiwendil moves me to the exact center of the classroom. I'm surrounded. At least it's another spot where I'm unlikely to stick out to him. 

"Hello." His tone is calm and friendly enough. To me, it still sounds like a jaguar going in for the kill. 

I'm melodramatic, I know. But it does. 

"Hi." I try not to sound as nervous as I feel. 

"You're Legolas, right? The sophomore." He smiles. Open, inviting. His eyes are brown, so dark they're almost black, a contrast with pale gold hair that's tied back in a ponytail. 

I nod. "And you're Thranduil." He's A blood mage, I remember now — that would explain the sense of danger. 

God. He's beautiful. Like an angel. How angels really are, amoral warriors of light, not the image we've slapped on them of innocence and goodness. 

Thranduil smiles again, all teeth. I think he knows how frightening he is. 

"Nice to meet you."

Nevermind. I know he knows how frightening he is. Still gorgeous.

"N-nice to meet you too." Fuck, showed a weak point. Bad news. 

He just smiles again, this time mysterious rather than menacing. He isn't going to attack me yet, but he's plotting something. Definitely. 

"You work with charms," he says. 

I do. Charms and auras. It's how I know he's plotting something. It's also how I know he's got the Nokia logo drawn on his arm. My invention — brand charms, not the Nokia. 

A quick smile, show some confidence. "Yeah." And then, because I can't resist bragging, "I'm the one who figured out how to use brand logos for them."

It isn't that hard. Charms work with the caster's personal and cultural associations — I use ladybugs for luck charms because my sister Mira told me they were lucky when we were kids, for instance — and a brand association and a childhood memory work just as well. In short, if it's done by a skilled charms-mage, putting a Nike swoosh on something or painting it red will actually make it go faster. 

I don't mention that I figured that out accidentally when I was experimenting with my skateboard four years ago. I wasn't the smartest twelve-year-old, but I had some good ideas. 

"Really?" Thranduil looks impressed. 

Good. He's older than I am, prettier than I am, more experienced than I am (in any and every way), and a good deal more dangerous than I am. I'm on top with this, if nothing else. 

"That's so cool," he continues, and he looks like he's about to say more when Aiwendil cuts him off. 

The rest of the period passes in a strangely comfortable form of quiet. 

oOoOoOo

Break passes uneventfully, fifteen minutes of chilling with Elladan and Elrohir outside our English class in which nothing happens. 

The bell rings and we walk into DeSoto hall and to our English class with Mrs. Lórien, who's the twins' grandmother and also psychic. I carefully don't think about the five luck charms that I made in science class and currently have on my person. 

Class starts. I'm seated between Elladan and Elrohir, and I can practically hear the twins mindspeak. "Would you stop it?" I hiss ten minutes in, and the buzz of mental communication stops. 

"Hey, Las, can you give Roh this note?"

~Remember how hard I fucked you last night? :)~ reads the note. God, the twins. I can never really decide if they're joking or not. 

I hand the note over, and Elrohir flushes. 

"Give this to Dany," he whispers forty-five seconds later. 

~Still feeling it. We should do that again after school, love you. <3~

I sigh and do. 

~Fuck, Roh, you're insatiable. Quickie at lunch?~ 

"Stop involving me in this," I whisper to Elladan. 

They both try not to laugh, and Mrs. Lórien glares at the three of us. I pray she didn't hear what we were thinking. But there are no more creepily sexual notes, so I'm fine with that tradeoff. 

oOoOoOo

Fourth period drama. 

Drama kids are the best. Mr. Kelsey (yes, his name is Celeborn Kelsey, and yes, he's married to Mrs. Lórien) teaches, and Haldir and Oriphin and Rúmil are all in this class. Kelsey's Harem is how they're collectively known among us drama kids, though to the outside world they're the Mallorn Brothers. They're illusionists, mostly, though I'm pretty sure Orophin dabbles in dark magic. All three of them flirt like it's muscle memory, with everybody else and with one another, and between Kelsey's Harem and the twins, I'm glad I don't have any siblings. 

But drama passes with very little drama, ironically enough, with the only real event being Haldir sort-of breaking character in the middle of a scene to make out with Rúmil. I don't know why Kelsey cast a pair of brothers as love interests, but he did. The class is weird but it's normal, and nothing goes like normal because for drama that would be weird. 

Strange, like many things, but like many things true. 

oOoOoOo

After fourth period is lunch, and as always I'm thankful for the break. I can't find Elladan and Elrohir, and I know that Lindir's at the GSA meeting like every Wednesday. I sit on the steps to DeSoto, alone. 

Well. I'm alone for the first ten minutes of lunch. At that point someone walks up to me and — oh. 

In Biology this morning, Thranduil was in a suit coat and dress pants, sharp and businesslike. And he was beautiful. I've said that. But he was dangerous too; he was beautiful like an archangel or the sun (and we've softened the sun just like we've softened angels; the sun is a white-hot ball of fiery burning gas that transforms all it touches and can blind us if we look too closely, and yet we like it, we think it's a symbol of hope and light, when small children draw the sun they add smiles to its face. We remember that fire can warm a winter but forget that it purifies by burning.)

Now — now, in his too-big hoodie and cargo pants with so many pockets it's ridiculous, he's still beautiful. But he looks human now, more tangible, somehow. He doesn't look like a predator. I don't feel like prey. 

I look at his aura and although he looks calm it's nearly full of blue-hot seething passion. It should scare me. It doesn't. 

"Hello, Legolas," he says.

I'm already standing."Hello," and I step towards him. His eyes are even darker than they were in class. 

I don't know who moves first, me or him — but the next day, nearly everyone at my school knows about how Thranduil Eryn the senior blood mage is now dating Legolas Greene, the sixteen-year-old who invented brand charms. 

I would be annoyed by that, but somehow I can't find it in me to care.


End file.
